Album reviews: Steven Wilson and Hound Dog Taylor

Published: Wednesday, April 10, 2013 at 07:05 PM.

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After punk came onto the scene in the late 1970s, prog rock was shoved out of the critical spotlight and into the same corner as heavy metal. Both genres had rabid fan bases that kept the music alive, but most music critics dismissed them because they weren’t Patti Smith.

Steven Wilson was one of those kids who defied what he was told was cool, latched onto progressive music and never let go. His third solo album, “The Raven Who Refused to Sing,” is a fresh, modern recording that evokes the spirit of his idol’s greatest moments without photocopying them.

Wilson is so in tune with what progressive rock is in 2013 that main King Crimson marm Robert Fripp tapped Wilson to oversee the re-mastered editions of King Crimson’s back catalog. This is the music equivalent of sports icon Michael Jordan asking you to help with his new sneaker design.

The album hits the ground running with a turbulent bass/drum workout on the 12-minute “Luminol,” which eventually gives way to Tom Morello-style guitar noises and crashing, orchestral chords. Drummer Marco Minnemann’s fluid style keeps everything moving along and gives the entire album a nice coat of energy.

Keyboardist Alan Holzman spent an unheard of four years in the Miles Davis touring band, so you know he’s got chops of the black belt variety. His electric piano work on “Raven” is reminiscent of “Bitches Brew”-era Joe Zawinul, thus lending a chilly undercurrent to even the brightest moments.

Vocally and lyrically, Wilson tends to stay on the darker side of the street, but he’s no shoe gazer. Just imagine if Radiohead’s Thom York had ever been hugged or eaten a steak, and that’s pretty much Wilson’s emotional territory. To be fair, it would be nearly impossible to sing about puppies and balloons when the music is as intense as the title track or “Holy Drinker.”

Wilson and the rest of this band have spent a fair amount of time on the road, and it shows. The interplay between lead guitarist Guthrie Govan and multi-instrumentalist Theo Travis is simply stunning. Wilson even breaks out the same mellotron used by King Crimson on their “In the Wake of Poseidon” album.

Steven Wilson is best known for his tenure with Porcupine Tree, a hard rock band that flirted with prog rock tendencies. As a solo artist, Wilson has jumped the broom and delved headlong into epic, King Crimson/Genesis-inspired progressive music.

Between 1968 and 1973, bands such as Crimson, Genesis and Yes led the charge for complex, melodic rock music. Within the space of a 40-minute album, these bands could mix jazz, rock and classical motifs into songs that routinely ran more than 10 minutes in length. Procol Harum, Pink Floyd and Yes even had success with songs passing the 20-minute mark.

After punk came onto the scene in the late 1970s, prog rock was shoved out of the critical spotlight and into the same corner as heavy metal. Both genres had rabid fan bases that kept the music alive, but most music critics dismissed them because they weren’t Patti Smith.

Steven Wilson was one of those kids who defied what he was told was cool, latched onto progressive music and never let go. His third solo album, “The Raven Who Refused to Sing,” is a fresh, modern recording that evokes the spirit of his idol’s greatest moments without photocopying them.

Wilson is so in tune with what progressive rock is in 2013 that main King Crimson marm Robert Fripp tapped Wilson to oversee the re-mastered editions of King Crimson’s back catalog. This is the music equivalent of sports icon Michael Jordan asking you to help with his new sneaker design.

The album hits the ground running with a turbulent bass/drum workout on the 12-minute “Luminol,” which eventually gives way to Tom Morello-style guitar noises and crashing, orchestral chords. Drummer Marco Minnemann’s fluid style keeps everything moving along and gives the entire album a nice coat of energy.

Keyboardist Alan Holzman spent an unheard of four years in the Miles Davis touring band, so you know he’s got chops of the black belt variety. His electric piano work on “Raven” is reminiscent of “Bitches Brew”-era Joe Zawinul, thus lending a chilly undercurrent to even the brightest moments.

Vocally and lyrically, Wilson tends to stay on the darker side of the street, but he’s no shoe gazer. Just imagine if Radiohead’s Thom York had ever been hugged or eaten a steak, and that’s pretty much Wilson’s emotional territory. To be fair, it would be nearly impossible to sing about puppies and balloons when the music is as intense as the title track or “Holy Drinker.”

Wilson and the rest of this band have spent a fair amount of time on the road, and it shows. The interplay between lead guitarist Guthrie Govan and multi-instrumentalist Theo Travis is simply stunning. Wilson even breaks out the same mellotron used by King Crimson on their “In the Wake of Poseidon” album.

“The Raven Who Refused to Sing” is well paced with much excitement broken up by interludes of soft reflection. Any fan of well-played, stirring music will find much here to enjoy.

Classic album: Hound Dog Taylor & The Houserockers

Artist: Hound Dog Taylor

Label: Alligator Records

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

Hound Dog Taylor cut a wide swath during his brief recording career. His tenacious slide playing is the missing link between Elmore James and George Thorogood, and his 1971 debut lp is crammed full of it.

The label that released “Hound Dog Taylor & The Houserockers” — Alligator Records — was created because label founder Bruce Iglauer was frustrated that this genius musician couldn’t get a contract. Alligator has gone on to become the pre-eminent modern blues label, while Hound Dog Taylor’s guitar technique is to this day studied by musicians as if it were a rose bush discovered on Mars.

Recorded with his live band — drummer Ted Harvey and guitarist Brewer Phillips (who served somewhat as a bass player) — “Hound Dog Taylor & The Houserockers” is the rare instance in which someone figured out something new to do with the blues. The playing by these three men is light years away from polished, and the music is all the better for it. After all, this isn’t a ballet — this is Chicago blues at its finest.

The entire album plays like a party, with “Walking the Ceiling” getting things jumping at the outset. The playing is tight and focused, but it has a sharpness to it that makes you think a fight could break out at any minute. Taylor’s barrel-chested vocal on “Held My Baby Last Night” brings things down just long enough for everybody to catch their breath, but the respite is brief.

Phillips gets the spotlight during a mean, nasty solo on “Phillips’ Theme,” and the oft-covered but never bettered “Give Me Back My Wig” (most recently covered by R.E.M.’s Peter Buck) is one of the greatest blues-grooves this side of Paul Butterfield’s Blues Band.

“Hound Dog Taylor & The Houserockers” is essentially lightening captured in a bottle, so if you’re able, go get a case of it.

Jon Dawson’s album reviews appear every Thursday in The Free Press. Contact Jon at 252-559-1092 or jon.dawson@kinston.com. Purchase books, music and gris-gris bags at jondawson.com.